


'cause without you, there's no me anymore

by stellark



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shameless Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU, and i felt like writing sickfic, i was soft for honggu, nobody else from ptg is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 13:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15819618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellark/pseuds/stellark
Summary: Once you find your soulmate, separation for twelve hours, depending on how strong the bond is, can be fatal.For two years, Yang Hongseok and Yeo Changgu have nurtured one of the strongest (and strangest) soulmate bonds known to humankind.Then Hongseok falls asleep in the library.





	'cause without you, there's no me anymore

**Author's Note:**

> soundtrack: 
> 
> sorry - the rose
> 
> if ya know me then ya know i never edit my works

Yang Hongseok loves Yeo Changgu.

It’s fact. It’s also kind of necessary, because they’re soulmates. Hongseok knows that if he was ever separated from Changgu for long, both of them would probably end up dying.

Or either of them. It’s honestly a little complicated.

Most soulmate pairs would distribute the symptoms evenly. Both partners would start off with a light cold, maybe a few flu symptoms, before rapidly deteriorating in health until they were reunited with their soulmate. It’s rare that someone dies from separation syndrome, because the world revolved constantly around keeping people close with their soulmates. And while severity of symptoms varied with how strong the bond was, the average person can go up to a week without seeing or touching their soulmate.

Hongseok and Changgu, on the other hand, can’t go more than six hours.

It’s a little disorienting, a little inconvenient, but most of all it’s strange.

#

Hongseok remembers the first time he’d unknowingly left Changgu alone. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he’ll wake up gasping and panicked, his face wet with tears, his entire body wracked with sobs.

It takes soothing kisses from Changgu’s sweet lips and comforting arms wrapped around his waist to lull him back to sleep.

#

“Changgie, I’ll be home soon, I swear.”

“Seokie, it’s fine, I feel fine. I know you have an exam tomorrow. Go study,” Changgu urges, and Hongseok feels his heart both swell and break a little with how understanding his boyfriend is with Hongseok’s hectic schedule, yet at the same time so nonchalant about any possible symptoms of separation, because Hongseok knows that Changgu would rather die than feel like a burden, and the thought fills him with an uneasy feeling of worry.

Maybe that’s why Changgu was always destined to be the one to take the fall.

Hongseok knows he’s been the classic example of a busy, distant boyfriend for the past week. In his defense, his economics professor really laid the review material on thick, as if the exam wasn’t stressful enough by itself, and he’s been snagging every spare hour that he’s not at class or doing shifts at his part time job to study.

He hates how Changgu’s voice is so casual yet so comforting, telling him over and over again that everyone had bad days, or even weeks, and that Hongseok’s not the only one in the world who has shit he needs to get done so will he please chill the fuck out and start getting ready to ace his exam.

Hongseok hates it because that’s exactly how Changgu had sounded last time.

Nevertheless, he still has a fifteen thousand word essay due at the end of the week, and the material he needs for it is hidden somewhere in the depths of a century old book, amongst the tiny, almost illegible font, so he needs to get working. He swears that once this nightmare is over and done with, he’s spoiling Changgu like a five-year-old.

The thought has a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and adds a bounce to his step.

He exits the bus and the library’s a short walk away, so he braves the chilling cold but seriously, it’s only November why the fuck is Seoul being such a monster with the weather, what with the sudden flurry of snow that Hongseok struggles through, the short walk to the library feeling like an eternity.

It’s a relief to burst through the heavy metal doors, into the cozy air conditioned inside, the familiar smell of disinfectant and paper making everything a little warmer for him. As a struggling college student, he’s made the campus library his own personal getaway, even keeping friendly enough with the librarians for them to save him his favourite seat, the blue chair by the window, and turning a blind eye to when he walks in with a coffee, pointedly ignoring the clear _No Food or Beverages_ sign at the door.

Man, Hongseok’s list of people he owes is steadily growing.

He makes himself comfortable in his space, spreading his textbooks and notes out in front of him, mentally and physically preparing himself for the strenuous task at hand. Then he thinks of Changgu’s proud smile he’s going to receive if he passes with honors, and picks up his pen.

#

Yeo Changgu isn’t feeling too well.

It’s honestly normal, Changgu is basically accustomed to it by now. What with all the psychologists and soulmate experts he and Hongseok have visited, all they’ve told him, over and over, was that with the strength of the bond stunning people who dedicate their careers to it, it’s not going to be uncommon for Changgu to be sick often.

Not only does Yeo Changgu harbour the weight of one of humankind’s strongest soulmate bonds ever to exist, he harbours it alone.

The idea had been foreign to him, at first, but in reality it wasn’t uncommon for the universe to suddenly decide that make things a little more exciting by rendering one partner unable to feel any symptoms, while the other instead experienced double. Then it had simply been a coincidence that the lopsided soulbond had collided with a bond as strong as theirs, and they were the result.

Not that Changgu minds. For Hongseok, he’s probably be willing to be burned alive for eternity.

Changgu’s always been the type who let people step over him. He let people copy off his test papers, even when he had gotten caught and punished by the teacher while the offending student had passed with flying colours. He took the blame for every tiny thing, a bad habit he was aware of but couldn’t break. In his mind, he likes seeing people happy, so making others happy is a win-win, right?

Even at his own expense. 

Changgu can’t really focus on the drama playing front of him, because if he’s being honest his head is a little foggy and he’s suddenly tired, muscles feeling like stone and eyes heavy. He checks his watch and winces when he notices it’s four in the afternoon; three hours since he’d last seen Hongseok. A part of him wants to pick up his phone and call, maybe just to hear Hongseok’s voice, maybe to beg for Hongseok to come back. But the more dominant part of himself scolds him for thinking that, reminding him sharply that Hongseok’s been really stressed for his finals and Changgu shouldn’t be hindering him.

But he really is feeling nauseous.

He rubs his hands together through the sheets and tries to think. Hongseok’s finals had him studying late into night, leaving early in the morning, distant and cold even towards Changgu, who’d taken it silently, albeit with a few tears of pain after Hongseok’s snappy retorts and the one time he’d yelled at his boyfriend for disturbing him.

Later that night, Hongseok had creaked open the bedroom door looking like a scared child, his hair a mess, his eyes watery. Changgu was awake with his eyes closed, and he stayed that way as Hongseok crept into the room and slipped into bed, swiping his face and sniffling softly, whispering soft apologies into Changgu’s ear, his hot breath and soft lips ghosting over his skin.

He hadn’t noticed how the pillow was already damp from Changgu’s own tears.

Now, Changgu’s fingers are shaking, hovering hesitantly over his phone, the boy trying to ignore the way his head felt light, and his legs weak.

In the span of the next minute, he opens his latest text messages with doubt and hesitance filling his every move. He types and deletes, over and over, until he settles on a simple message.

Changgu / 4:06PM  
>when r u coming home

He figures it’ll work as he leaves his phone on the coffee table and settles back into the blankets, trying his hardest to focus entirely on the tv screen.

#

Hongseok wakes up to a gentle finger tapping on his shoulder, and jolts.

“It’s closing time, dear,” the kind librarian tells him with a apologetic tone to her voice. 

Hongseok’s still disorineted from just waking up, but he unsticks his face from the pages of his textbook as his eyes fly around wildly, thrown off by how brightly lit the library is, and how _empty_.

“I let you sleep as long as you could,” the librarian says, again, and tries to gently coax Hongseok up. She starts to collect his pens and return them to his pencil case, but Hongseok’s not paying her any attention. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and he suddenly feels extremely cold, as if he’s been doused in ice water the moment he woke up. When he lowers his gaze to his hand, it’s shaking in his lap.

It can’t be.

Unconsciously, he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to rinse the sleep from his system. When he reopens them, the room is swaying.

If Hongseok is feeling separation symptoms, then…

_Changgu._

“What time is it?” he blurts, rudely cutting off the librarian in the middle of her sentence. She looks up at him through her spectacles, he gaze revealing a little shock.

“It’s nine,” she says softly after checking her watch. “Closing,” she adds.

Nine. Hongseok’s limbs suddenly feel like putty as horror consumes him. 

“No,” he says hoarsely, his mouth dry. “No, no, it can’t be.”

“You’ve been asleep for some time,” the librarian says, with a crooked brow.

If it’s nine, then Hongseok hasn’t seen Changgu in eight hours.

He makes a sudden lunge for his phone, which is lying on the desk a few feet away, shocking the librarian into taking a sudden step back, but he ignores her. He presses the on button desperately for a few seconds, and the device doesn’t start.

It’s dead. 

“Changgu,” Hongseok says almost inaudibly, feeling tears mist the corners of his eyes, and the contents of his stomach rise. “Changgu, I’m so fucking sorry.”

The librarian is watching him with a confused expression, but he doesn’t care. He shoves the rest of his stuff into his bag at lightning speed, his hands shaking and eyes moist, but he doesn’t care. He’s just left his soulmate alone for eight hours, Changgu could be dying and the thought makes Hongseok’s blood run cold and heart go into overdrive.

“M-My soulmate,” he chokes out, in reply to the librarian’s questions, and she shuts up immediately, her expression suddenly full of worry. “B-But, you’re so young,” she stammers, and Hongseok just nods. Without another word to the poor woman, he’s sprinting out of the library at his top speed.

He doesn’t have the patience to wait for the bus, instead choosing to run the few mile from the library to his apartment, his blood pounding in his ears, tears streaming down his face at a rate that soaks the collar of his shirt. His lungs are burned out by the time he scales the steps of the apartment complex, his breathing is rapid and all he can think right now is of Changgu, and if the floor is swaying for him, then Changgu could be _dead._

Hongseok lets out a muffled cry of anguish as he wrenches the door open, immediately spotting the lone light drifting from the television screen amidst the darkness the apartment is bathed in. It’s too hot in here, Changgu must have raised the temperature, and suddenly panic swells in Hongseok’s chest, something more raw and intense than anything he’s ever felt before.

He’s racing over to the couch, and Changgu’s there. Hongseok’s heart shatters like porcelain when he sees his boyfriend.

Changgu’s curled up on himself on the couch, amidst a sea of blankets, and Hongseok’s arms are quick to unravel his boyfriend. Changgu’s eyes are shut and his face is pallid, features slack. His breathing is shallow, but he’s breathing. A flood of relief wells up inside Hongseok, and tears start to spill again, his entire body shaking, his breathing ragged.

Hongseok sobs as he pulls Changgu close, feeling his boyfriend’s skin like ice under his touch, despite the fact that it’s a thousand degrees in the apartment and Hongseok himself is sweating. Gingerly, Hongseok presses his lips to Changgu’s forehead and is flooded with relief when the boy stirs.

His eyes slip open an inch, and Hongseok’s hands are gently carding through his hair, prodding at his face. He pulls Changgu onto his lap, terrified at how much weight Changgu’s lost, how light he feels, and Hongseok knows it’s his fault, that he’s been inattentive for over a week, and now Changgu’s suffering.

He’s bawling now, his arms tight around Changgu’s thin waist, his face burried into the crook of Changgu’s neck, soaking his shirt in tears. His fingers dig into the fabric on Changgu’s back and he’s so dizzy with both separation syndromes and how hard he’s crying.

Then there are fingers curling in his hair, familiar fingers, long and slender and gentle, and they give his hair a weak little tug, and Hongseok looks up in surprise.

Changgu’s smiling at him, his eyes half-closed and still glazed, face still devoid of colour, but he meets Hongseok’s red rimmed gaze and his smile brightens.

“Hi.”

Hongseok lets out a wet cough, and Changgu worriedly pounds his back. But the coughing subsides and now Hongseok’s back to crying, words barely audible past his tear dampened lips.

“That’s all you have to say? After I- I, oh my god, Changgu, you-”

“No, you’re right. I have more to say.” Changgu’s voice is hoarse and weak, and Hongseok is terrified to see his eyes drifting shut again. He leans closer unconsciously, and Hongseok strokes his neck.

“Say it.”

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Changgu asks with a childish pout, and Hongseok’s heart just about shrivels up.

“M-My phone died,” is all he can stammer, hating how Changgu’s eyes droop even more, looking seconds away from unconsciousness.

“Wow.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“I’m not disappointed, I’m just...just, tired,” and Changgu’s eyes fall shut again, and he slumps forward into Hongseok’s chest, tucking his head under Hongseok’s chin, curling into the warmth of his body. Hongseok tilts his head so his cheek is against the top of Changgu’s head, and they just sit there, as Changgu’s breathing evening out, and Hongseok’s tears starting to subside.

He really needs to spoil the fuck out of Changgu after this.

Hongseok doesn’t know how long he and Changgu sit there, the former still shaken, the latter sound asleep, looking serene in Hongseok’s arms, although his face is pale. But eventually he decides that Changgu’s skin is warm again, and there’s a bit of colour back in his face. He lifts Changgu with ease, his stomach twisting - Changgu is his height, why the fuck is he so easy to carry? - and heads to their bedroom, careful not to wake his boyfriend.

“Seokie-ah,” Changgu whines softly, as Hongseok deposits him on the bed. Changgu slumps over and Hongseok wants to coo, because although he stills look half dead his boyfriend is adorable in the large sweater he had put on when he was cold, and Hongseok is pretty sure that it was stolen from his closet, but he doesn’t mind; Changgu wears it better than Hongseok ever could. The grey fabric drapes over Changgu’s smaller frame and drowns him, but his tired eyes peek out from under the hood, and find Hongseok’s own.

He has to sink his teeth into his lip to not cry again.

“Come,” Changgu demands, before falling backward into the mattress, and Hongseok obeys, even though he’s still wearing his jeans. When he lies down next to Changgu, his boyfriend’s hand on his shoulder pulls him closer, before the owner of said hand makes himself comfortable as the little spoon. Hongseok never volunteered for this but is still happy to comply, pressing a chaste kiss to Changgu’s cheek before the boy whips his head around.

There are lips against Hongseok’s own now, soft and pillowy and oh so familiar, and he smiles into the kiss with his hand tightening around Changgu’s waist. It’s simple, it’s sweet and there’s nothing hurried or awkward about it. Hongseok hopes Changgu can hear his apologies through his lips, how much he despises himself for being so careless, for abandoning Changgu like that.

And Changgu does, because he pulls apart with the tiniest of cheeky grins, and the ghost of a whisper hangs in the air before he promptly falls back asleep, held close in Hongseok’s arms.

“Stop being sorry.”

Hongseok smiles, a little sadly this time, and falls asleep next to his boyfriend, already thinking of dates and presents and little things he’s gonna do to let Changgu knows how much he means to him, and how he will never hurt him again.

#

end.

**Author's Note:**

> i love hurt comfort, and i love honggu, and i apologize for the embarrassing amount of exposition. i wanted to write this without the details of the whole soulmate universe getting in the way.
> 
> this turned out a lot worse than i hoped :( mostly cause it was written on a whim and not rly developed. sorry. comments & kudos are very appreciated:)
> 
> find me on twt @dreamyeo and we can scream abt pentagon together <3


End file.
